


The Future is Ours

by sparkly_butthole, thisnewjoe



Series: The Future Is Ours [14]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Amnesia, Falling In Love Again, Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Storytime on the SSV Normandy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25123855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkly_butthole/pseuds/sparkly_butthole, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisnewjoe/pseuds/thisnewjoe
Summary: Falling in love all over again is effortless.Written for the 2020 Mass Effect Big Bang!
Relationships: Kaidan Alenko/Male Shepard
Series: The Future Is Ours [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/672098
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41
Collections: Mass Effect Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Welcome to my 2020 Mass Effect Big Bang piece, and final work in this series. This is the (mostly) angst-free post-canon amnesia story you didn't know you needed.
> 
> Thank you to my bab [Arke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arke/pseuds/Arke%E2%80%9D) for being my Mass Effect beta for literal years and for putting up with my shit all this time. You are amaze and I will love you my whole life.
> 
> To my artist: I am so, so freaking happy I got a chance to meet and work with you. You're such a positive, delightful person to talk to, and I'm blessed to have had you with me on this ride!

  
  
  
  
  


Shepard awakens to the sound of beeping. He doesn’t know where he’s at, hasn’t the foggiest idea, in fact, just knows that it’s cold and sterile - so he’s guessing a hospital - and he’s hooked up to some major equipment. He tries to move and realizes he’s weak as hell and feels like he got hit with a spaceship. And his throat’s dry as sandpaper. 

What the hell  _ happened _ to him? 

“Mm-” He tries to clear his throat, but a hand covers his own before he can even blink his eyes open. 

“Shh, it’s alright, don’t try to move. It’s okay, you’re okay.” 

Jesus, that voice. Like liquid honey, if you mixed a little molten metal into it. 

“Mmm-” he tries again, still unable to open his eyes.

“Shh,” the voice repeats, and yeah - he’s gotta find out who this guy is. 

But before he can, a nurse comes in and clicks a button. Shepard can hear her murmuring to the honey-metal man, and the lights beyond his eyes go dim once more. 

  
  


***

  
  


When he awakens again, Shepard senses the lights dimming, like maybe someone had purposefully woken him. How long he’s been out, he has no idea, but he still feels as weak as a newborn foal and hungry in a way he’s never felt, not even during N7 survival training. 

“Mmmnnng…” 

He still can’t fucking talk, which is irritating as fuck. What in the  _ hell _ happened to him? 

A hand reaches out and grabs his own, then he feels a straw placed delicately between his lips. Shepard drinks and it’s like mana from the gods. The hands pull away and he whines, still thirsty and wanting more of that skin-to-skin contact. 

A throaty chuckle. Damn, there’s that voice again. He shivers with something other than cold. 

“You don’t have to talk yet, Shepard. Just relax. I’m here, okay?”

_ Okay _ , he thinks. _ I hope you stay, mystery man.  _

He stays awake longer this time, but it’s not long before he’s groaning with the pain. Meds must be wearing off, then. It’s like playing a broken record, sure, but seriously. What  _ happened _ to him? 

The nurse comes along again, and he wishes he could say hello - or at least goodbye - to the beautiful-sounding stranger.

  
  


***

  
  


It’s days, maybe weeks, before he can talk. And when he does manage it, he immediately wishes he could’ve stayed mute. 

“I… I know I can’t see yet, I mean they’ve got me still blindfolded and it’s a little scary not knowing why,” he says with a scratchy-but-hey-at-least-it’s-functional throat, “but I just want to know if you’re as beautiful as you sound.” 

Shepard had never known what  _ deafening silence _ meant, but he does now. He fervently hopes it’s just the two of them in the room, that some nurse or friend isn’t witnessing this, which he’s pretty sure is a spaceship wreck in the making. 

“I’m sorry… I guess I should introduce myself.” He clears his throat a little, trying not to gag on the words. Recovery from… whatever kind of injury this had been… is shitty, that’s for damn sure. “I’m John Shepard, Alliance Military.”

“I know,” the honey-metal man says quietly after a long pause. He sounds absolutely gutted but doing his best to hold it together. Sounds like maybe he’s had practice, too, which breaks John’s heart a little. 

“Can I have your name, too?” John asks, calm and kind, hoping he hasn’t already spooked this beautiful-sounding stranger away by sticking his foot in his mouth. It’s kinda hard to say how to avoid it again, though - he doesn’t even know what he said wrong. 

Another long pause. “It’s Kaidan. Kaidan Alenko.”

“Pleased to meet you, Kaidan. Are you military, as well?”

“I… Yes. Alliance and Spectre.”

Shepard nearly sits up in his excitement, almost forgetting how much agony that would cause. “They made a human Spectre? That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, well… I’m not the first. Had pretty big shoes to fill, if I’m honest. Not sure I did such a good job.”

“Who was the first?” 

The stranger swallows audibly, then whispers, almost under his breath, “You.”

John curses softly.  _ Shit _ . That would explain things. Like why he can’t remember where he is or what the hell happened. Like why this honey-metal stranger sounds like Shepard just killed his dog. He doesn’t know why, but he feels an urge to protect the man.  _ Kaidan Alenko _ . The name isn’t ringing any bells, but he knows in his soul that they know each other well. Intimately. It’s there in his blood.

“Okay,” he says, wondering how he can mitigate the damage, “so I have amnesia. They’ve got good treatments for that sort of thing now. I should be good as new soon, yeah? We can pick up where we left off.” 

Wherever that was. 

Kaidan sighs. “I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.”

“Why not?”

“Shepard, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Hmm. He has to think about that one. “I had just… I’d just met Councilor Udina for the first time over a comm link. And been assigned to Captain Anderson, though we’d known each other long before then.”

“What year do you think it is?”

“Late twenty-one eighty… one? I guess.”

“Yeah, I was afraid of that,” Kaidan mutters. “John - Shepard - a lot has happened since then. A whole lifetime’s worth, it seems. Three for you because you’ve already died twice.”

The smile finally leaves Shepard’s lips. “That sounds serious.”

“It is, and I’m not sure how to deal with it. I need some air. I’m sorry.”

Kaidan walks out without another word. John listens for his footsteps, hoping he gets to hear his beautiful not-stranger again, even if it’s to say goodbye.

  
  


***

  
  


PT fucking _ sucks _ . 

A lot of shit’s going through his mind these days, like, y’know, what actually  _ happened to him _ \- they won’t tell him much, just that there was a war and he was a hero and  _ don’t worry about it yet, they’ll brief you when the shrinks clear you, just focus on getting better _ \- but man, fuck, it’s the PT that’s really got him for some reason. 

He’s lying on the bed, trying very hard not to toss his cookies over the edge, when Kaidan walks in. 

The thing about Kaidan is that he’s just as goddamn gorgeous as he sounds, and that’s saying something. Kaidan has taken every one of his compliments with a blush and a nervous rub against the back of his neck, and John  _ knows _ he got that from him. He must’ve. There’s a lot these people aren’t telling him. 

Hard to be upset about it when he’s in this much agony. Kaidan’s the silver lining today, that’s for sure. 

“Uhh... Shepard? I brought you some soup and some of that nasty electrolyte stuff the military used to use. No updates on our nanomeds yet, what with all the tech… you know… um, so it’s the best I can get you.” He sounds apologetic, the poor guy.

“Hey,” he says, gritting his teeth and making a valiant attempt to sit up so he can take the soup. “That’s not your fault, and I don’t care anyway.” Not true, but he doesn’t think there’s anything Kaidan could do that would make him upset. 

Kaidan reaches out to help him get situated, awkward and still hesitant to touch him. He wishes they didn’t have all this history between them - or rather, he wishes the he could  _ remember _ the damn history, because he bets it was pretty fucking good. 

“Got it?” Kaidan asks, frowning when he sees Shepard’s shaking hand as he lifts the spoon to his mouth. 

“I’m fine. It’s fine. I got through N7 training; I can get through this.” He hopes. 

“Uh, yeah. Well, I’m gonna go check on... uh, yeah.” 

“Kaidan, wait,” Shepard calls, desperately hoping he can convince the man to stay for a while. It’s not just because he desires more of Kaidan’s company, though that’s a big part of it; he’s also lonely in a more general sense, in need of someone who gets him on a level non-combatants simply can’t. The nurses make polite conversation, but they haven’t cleared him to debrief yet. Which makes zero sense because he’s psychologically firing on all cylinders. It’s quite frustrating.

Kaidan stops in the doorway but doesn’t turn around:  _ I’m listening, but I’m still ready to run. _

“Sit with me?” 

Something in Shepard’s voice must break through Kaidan’s defenses, because he sighs and releases some of the tension in his shoulders. Then he sits by the bed again, and even though he’s still hesitant to look Shepard in the eye, Shepard counts it as a win.

“So this sucks.”

Kaidan chuckles without humor. “You can say that again.”

“Well, I guess the whole damn thing sucks, but I mean the PT specifically. I’m gonna go out on a limb and say dying hurts.”

Kaidan raises his head and gives John an incredulous look. John figures he’s too floored by the comment to actually be upset. 

“Why the face? I’m a living testament right here. Wait, you said this happened twice?”

“Yes. But I wasn’t there for the aftermath last time.”

He sounds even more unhappy than before. 

“Is there no step without a landmine here?” he asks softly. “I’m doing the best I can.”

Kaidan grimaces. “Yeah, hey, I’m sorry. Been thinkin’ about myself so much it didn’t even occur to me how this would affect you.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Shepard’s lips. “They won’t tell me anything, you know. Nothing beyond  _ hey, you’re the biggest war hero in the history of maybe ever _ . Those were literally the nurse’s words, by the way. Feels pretty strange for people to look at me that way, especially since I can’t remember it.”

Kaidan gives him a small smile - another win. “It’s not that far from the truth.”

Well, if Shepard is a war hero, he doesn’t see any sign of awe or worship in Kaidan’s gaze, which is a relief. He doesn’t want to be placed on a pedestal; he’s just a man. Just a human.

“So what can you tell me?” he asks in a conspiratorial tone. “Surely there’s something.”

Kaidan actually gives it some thought. “Well,” he finally says, “I know you have a lot of nightmares, but there are some good dreams in there, too, sometimes. Once, you told me about one time in basic when your buddy got in trouble for making fun of the geth. Your drill sergeant yelled at him and then made him stand there clicking and beeping while swiveling his head back and forth for a good thirty minutes. You dreamt about the memory, only this time, he was naked, and you couldn’t stop laughing about how his balls kept swinging in all different directions.” 

Shepard snorts. “I actually remember that day. And he wasn’t naked, but it would’ve been a thousand percent funnier if he had been.”

“I can imagine.” Kaidan pauses before narrowing his eyes. “Shepard... you didn’t actually know his balls were big, did you? Please tell me your over-imaginative mind invented that part.”

“Hey,” he says, mock-offended, hoping he can joke with Kaidan about this, “just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I go staring at men in the locker room.”

To his surprise, Kaidan’s smile widens and goes soft. “I do know.”

Now what the hell does _ that  _ mean?

There’s a few moments of comfortable silence and slightly heated eye contact before Kaidan drops his gaze, embarrassed. 

Whoa. John would give a  _ lot _ to see that look again.

“Can you come back later?” he asks before he loses his nerve. “I’ve gotta confess, it’s pretty lonely in here.”

“Yeah, I remember being laid up in a military hospital a… well, a while back. I didn’t have near the number of injuries you did and I was bored out of my mind.”

“So is that a yes?” 

Kaidan chuckles. The sound makes John shiver. “I actually have work to do. There’s a lot of... well, stuff to do.” John pouts at him for a moment. “I can probably send someone in, though. Maybe Joker. I only hope he can keep his mouth shut about... certain things. Most things. He’s a good man, but let me just say I’m happy they’ll be clearing you soon if I do send him in.”

“Oh thank god,” Shepard says with a happy sigh. “It’s driving me up the wall a little, not knowing anything about what happened. I missed five years of my life.”

“Three,” Kaidan whispers, and his eyes are so sad. Shepard hates it.

“Didn’t you tell me it was 2186?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all I get, then? That’s a hell of a teaser, Major Alenko.”

“Probably more than I should’ve said, too. Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. You’re sending this Joker guy?” 

Kaidan stands up and salutes. “I’ll do my best, Shepard. See you tomorrow, though.”

Shepard salutes back. It makes his arm burn like a motherfucker, but the thrill he feels in his bones more than makes up for it.

  
  


***

  
  
  


Joker finds his way in shortly thereafter, and the first thing he does is make fun of Shepard. 

John likes his laugh. A lot. 

“Oh man,” Joker gets out between giggles, “I never thought I’d see you like this. You weren’t even this pathetic as a half-zombie with Cerberus.”

Shepard wants to grumble - he doesn’t look that bad, does he? - but then Joker’s words register. 

Cerberus?

_ Zombie? _

The look on his face must inform Joker of his mistake, because he quickly backtracks. “Uhh... I mean... you, uh... ahhh, fuck.”

“Didn’t last thirty seconds?” 

“Heh, that’s what she said,” Joker says under his breath. “Anyway, forget I said that. What I mean is, hi, I’m Joker. I was your pilot for like three years... uh, ish. Man, it’s hard not to give anything away.”

John huffs a laugh. “So it would seem.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna be reeling from the debriefing. I think it’ll take a few days to catch you up, and the psychiatrists are going to be monitoring you like a hawk. Man, I don’t envy you one bit.”

“Thanks,” Shepard says sarcastically. “Really lookin’ forward to it.” Truth is, he _ is _ looking forward to it, because the lack of information is killing him. Years of his life are gone, out there in the ether, and he can’t catch them. Not without help. Maybe not without a miracle. 

Joker smiles at him. “You were a real treat to work with, by the way. Lots of inappropriate conduct.”

Shepard bites his lip, another bad habit, while he considers this. It’s entirely possible, he supposes, but why would Captain Anderson let him get away with anything like that? Anderson adores him, that’s true, but he’d always been a (mostly) play-by-the-books kind of guy. 

“Anderson,” he starts. “I haven’t seen him. I thought they might want to send in someone I knew. You know, from before. Is he here?” Wherever ‘here’ even is.

He can tell the answer right away based on Joker’s reaction. His shoulders fall and he drops his eyes.  _ Seems like a good guy to play poker with _ , he thinks inanely. 

Fuck. 

_ Anderson. _

“I see,” he says in a steady voice. 

“Don’t say anything, okay? They can’t know I told you.”

Shepard shakes his head. “No, I should’ve figured it out when they didn’t send him in. He’s... was... my commanding officer. Fuck.  _ Anderson, _ ” he finishes softly. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry, Shepard.”

“John. Please call me John.”

Joker gives him a sad smile. “John.”

The silence that follows is awkward, but Shepard has never been one to let that stop him. “Please sit down. Tell me a story.”

Joker does, looking thoughtful. “Well...” he starts, “there are a few. More than a few. Not sure what you’re looking for... or what I can even tell you.”

“Tell me about Kaidan.”

Joker’s eyes widen. 

“It’s that surprising?” Shepard asks, bemused. 

“No. No. I guess I mean, yeah, maybe a little. It never occurred to me that you didn’t remember  _ him _ . He was such... ah shit, I don’t know if I’m allowed to tell you anything about him.” The poor guy sounds miserable.

“Well... I don’t really know, either. He won’t tell me much, but I can infer some things based on what he’s said. And how I feel when he’s around.”

“Happy?” Joker asks pointedly. “In more ways than one?”

John chuckles. “You could say that. The guy’s a looker, you can’t deny it.”

“I am pleading the fifth on that question.  _ La la la _ ,” Joker responds, covering his ears until Shepard reaches out to smack his hands away even though it costs him in the pain department. 

“Right. So tell me something that won’t give anything away.”

He’s quiet while Joker thinks about it. It makes him happy that there are apparently enough stories about the two of them that Joker  _ needs _ to think about it. 

“Okay,” Joker finally says, a flush and a mischievous grin on his face all at once. “Okay. So. Here we were at this party, right? Big thing. We spared no expense, since it was probably like, the last party... well. Together.”

“Sounds like a good time,” John says softly, though the questions are still adding up to a lot of  _????!!!!! What the hell happened??? _

“It was, though I didn’t appreciate the hangover the next morning. I think even Samara was feeling it, and she didn’t even drink.”

John tilts his head, quizzical. Samara?

“Asari Justicar. You’ll meet her. Anyway, I’m bad at keeping secrets. I can’t believe they agreed to let me see you.”

“Right. The party?” he prompts. Also:  _ Asari Justicar?? _

“Right. The party. So you and Kaidan had just revealed your relationship to people who already knew - you weren’t subtle, and don’t give me that smile, Shepard, you had it figured out and I’m not sorry I said it. But you both got drunk like everyone else. You a little less than Kaidan, for sure, but still, it was nice to see you let loose. You needed to by then.

“And Kaidan had been pushing your buttons all night. Said lots of dirty things that  _ do not bear  _ repeating. Suffice it to say you’d had enough, because you’re... well, you, and he’s who he is.”

“I’m on the edge of my seat here,” John prompts once Joker falls silent. 

Joker sighs deeply before continuing. “You basically caveman-dragged him into the bedroom and invited everyone to come watch you... spank him.” 

Shepard laughs at the eyeroll he gets. “Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said inappropriate. We must’ve been incredibly comfortable with... all of you.”

“And each other, yeah. I’m just thankful you didn’t actually do it. Well, you might’ve, but you did close the door and it was quiet, and let me tell you, I also wasn’t kidding when I said neither one of you was very subtle.”

John feels a thrill. He and Kaidan had had that good a relationship, and that  _ kind _ of relationship, too? Kaidan had willingly submitted to him, even when he was acting like such a little shit? 

“So I was an ass, and Kaidan just went along with it?” he asks, unable to believe his luck.

“Shepard. The two of you were like peas in a pod. I had no idea he’d be like that, either, but you had him pegged from the get-go. I should’ve seen the signs, how much you wanted each other. I was there the first time you met and it was like a missile had struck the  _ Normandy _ . I just thought that was the stress of the situation we were in, but nope... looking back, it was you two.”

“And people just accepted that we were like that?”

“We didn’t have much choice,” Joker says dryly. “Are you done with that slop? You keep flailing about like that, it might end up all over me.”

“C’mon, it’s not that bad. What we had at N7 training was a lot worse.”

“Right. Well, most of us aren’t badass enough to go through N7 training, you know.”

“So I’ve gathered.” He’s quiet for a moment, contemplating. “I realize you can’t tell me much about how things went big-picture-wise, but am I really a hero? Did I understand that correctly?”

Joker’s wistful look fades to something serious. “Shepard.  _ John _ . You saved us all.”

John nods. He knows he’ll hear the whole story soon. Suddenly, though, he’s nervous about what he’ll find out. 

“It’s a lot,” he admits. “To not know what I did. It’d feel that way anyway, but this is different. You know?”

“I do. And I don’t envy you that, either. There are hero worshippers on the street every day, and you’ll have to deal with that for the rest of your life. But Shepard?” John raises his head and meets Joker’s eyes. “You deserve every bit of it, and I won’t hear otherwise. From you or anybody else.”

He feels strangely touched despite his reluctance to accept such a compliment. “Thank you,” he says quietly. 

“Anytime.”

  
  


***

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Kaidan visits every day, though sometimes it’s only for a few minutes, depending on how many fires he has to put out. Between the PT and the boredom, Shepard considers every second a godsend. 

A week after his visit with Joker, the nurses steer him toward the administrative wing of their floor rather than the usual PT. His best guess is that they’re avoiding tiring him out too much in preparation for the debriefing. It’s got his nerves on high alert. 

“Shepard,” Admiral Hackett says in greeting, holding out a hand. John shakes it; he knows the admiration he feels must be showing because Hackett chuckles and gestures toward a chair. “Please sit down. This is Dr. Kristen Chamberlain, our most renowned psychiatrist.”

“It’s a pleasure to, uh, meet you,” Shepard says to them both, wondering if he’d had regular contact with them before. “This is it? No one else?”

“No one else,” Hackett confirms. “We thought it best to avoid overloading you with information or questions at first. You’ve lost a lot of time and information, and some of this data is top-level clearance only.”

“Sounds serious,” he says unnecessarily. “I’d guessed as much, but... having it in my face is different.”

Hackett nods and shifts in his seat, eyeing the stack of paperwork in front of him. “I can only imagine. And there are a lot of holes on our end, even with Ms. Lawson’s cooperation. So let’s get started and see where we end up. I hope some of this will jog your memory.”

“You got it, sir.”

It doesn’t jog his memory, though. If anything, it only serves to frustrate him more, and he feels more confused than ever. 

He’d saved the galaxy. Died. Worked with  _ Cerberus _ and then somehow saved the galaxy again. Been to prison after destroying an entire damn  _ star system _ , then made peace between the quarians and the geth. Cured the fucking genophage. 

Saved everybody  _ a third time.  _

The deaths of people he loved, people he can’t even remember. 

Thane.

Legion.

Mordin.

And Anderson.

The pictures of the Reapers mean nothing to him. The massive amount of damage they’d done only makes him sick to his stomach, enough that he has to ask Hackett to stop for a while. 

They get through it all in four days, four long days of torture. For all the amazing things he’d done, there’s so much more he could’ve fixed, so many more lives he could’ve saved if he’d only known.

“I know you’re blaming yourself,” Hackett tells him shortly after the debriefing is finally over. “You held up amazingly under the kind of pressure you had on your shoulders, but you’re only a man. And that’s what I’m going to say to you now:  _ you are only a man _ . You did better than any of us could have, probably better than anyone in the whole damn galaxy, and I am immensely proud of you.”

Shepard nods, though he feels a bit numb. “It’s just a lot to take. I wouldn’t believe it except in a fictional story, and here my commanding officer is telling me it’s real.”

“I know you’ll need some time. Kristen is here to help you work through it, and I assure you, she’s the best in the business.”

“Right,” Shepard says, staring at the table.

“There is one more detail. It’s... unofficial. We left it up to Spectre Alenko how he wanted you to find out.”

Apprehension grows in his stomach. “Find out what?” He hopes he isn’t going to lose the man, not now that he knows there really was something between them.

“Spectre Alenko is your spouse. You got married behind the Alliance’s back. In fact, I think even the Shadow Broker didn’t even know of your nuptials. Hell of a feat, that, and she was on your ship.”

“The Shadow Broker was on my  _ ship _ ?” He’d thought the debriefing over; how much more information does he have yet to discover?

“Unofficially, yes. And unofficially sanctioned.”

“Alliance regulations don’t forbid inter-crew marriages.” 

“I assume you had your reasons for wanting to hide it. I never asked.”

John is glad - ecstatic, even - to know. Spectre Alenko is not just a friend with benefits or even a boyfriend, he’s his partner. He can’t help but smile a little, even though he can tell from Hackett’s tone that there is bad news coming. 

“Tell me what you have to tell me,” he eventually says. “You’re not known for beating around the bush, sir, so I assume it’s serious.”

“It’s not that bad,” Hackett hedges, “but it’s something I argued against because I think it might set back your recovery. It’s temporary, at least.”

John moves his finger in a circle: _ get it over with. _

“He’s being relocated for the time being.”

The floor drops out from under him. He hadn’t realized how much he always looked forward to Kaidan’s visits. “How long? And where?”

“Vancouver. I hope it won’t be long. And I’d like you to go with him, but we need to be sure you’re able to function on your own first.”

“And that I’m sane, yeah, I get it,” Shepard adds, annoyed.

“And make sure you’re sane,” Hackett repeats, unrepentant. “I promise that you’ll be back together as soon as possible.”

Shepard doesn’t want to say it, but he thanks Hackett anyway. The trip back to his room is made in silence, even though the nurses try to talk to him. 

What a fucking day. Several days.

Kaidan’s there when he arrives. 

“Kaidan,” he says, surprised. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I know. I came to visit before... you know. Before I left.”

“You didn’t request this, did you?” John asks quietly, settling on the edge of the bed, as close to Kaidan as he’s dared to be since he woke up. 

Kaidan sits up in his chair and reaches out for John’s hand, the most contact he’s made yet. “No. God, John, I’d never do that. I mean I know I’m not... comfortable with a lot of this yet. It’s a big hit, and it hurts to know you might not ever get it back again. But I wouldn’t leave you by choice. I did that once and I regretted it for eight months.”

“I heard. And you did what you felt was right at the time. I don’t blame you; at one point, I might’ve done the same, Major.”

“I regretted it anyway. And when you sent me away on that last push... Shepard, it killed me. Everything since then has been a whirlwind with all my responsibilities, both to the Alliance and the Council. But I promise you, I’d rather be here with you. Always.”

John feels like crying. He never cries, but he feels like it anyway. “You’ll vid-call me every day, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Kaidan replies before bringing Shepard’s hand to his lips. It makes John shiver with need - not sexual, though he wants the Major something fierce, but intimacy. He wants to feel Kaidan’s body close to his. He misses him deep in his bones. 

But all he does is squeeze Kaidan’s hand, smiling at him a little softly and a little sad. 

“Be safe, Major.”

“You, too.”

  
  


***

  
  
  


There isn’t a lot of time to worry about Kaidan after that. They ramp up his PT and therapy sessions with the psychiatrist - on purpose, most likely, to stop him from obsessing over his husband. By the time he makes it back to his room every night, he’s too exhausted to do much but sleep. 

The good news is that the work is paying off. Between modern medicine and the massive amount of tech Cerberus had built into him, he’s near perfect, almost as good as he’d been when he’d passed the N7 exam. It absolutely stuns him. 

The physical and mental therapists finally clear him a few months after Kaidan left for Vancouver, and it’s time to be discharged from the hospital. London is still being rebuilt; a lot of people are still in shelters, though those are clearing out by the day now. It’s mostly refugees who are in the most need, people who were trapped in the countryside when the Reapers had arrived. 

They give him an apartment downtown, overlooking the square where he, Kaidan, and Garrus had once fought tooth and nail for their lives. 

Garrus, the next crew member to meet him, helps him get the place set up. 

“So, Shepard, I see you’re still alive,” he drawls when he walks into Shepard’s hospital room. “And mostly whole. Congratulations.” 

“Thanks,” Shepard says, unsure what to make of the turian. “I hear you were my third-in-command under Miranda Lawson and then Spectre Alenko.”

“I was. Now I can say that I traveled with the great Commander Shepard on all his fantastic journeys through space.”

“Lucky you,” Shepard jokes. “Thank you for all you did for me, even though I don’t remember it.” 

“I think you did more for me than I did for you, but I appreciate that. We had a hell of a time together.” 

“Sounds like it. Do you happen to know where the rest of the crew has gone? Even after nine months, they’re giving me the runaround.”

Garrus settles into the chair beside the bed. “Some of them are still missing. Everyone’s gone on to other things, though I hear there are some plans to swing a visit whenever possible.” 

That perks Shepard up. “Like who?” 

“Well, Liara for one. I am sure you’ll have plenty to catch up on there.”

“Liara,” Shepard muses. “I’ve heard... a bit about her.”

“She’s a good woman. Harder than she used to be, though. I miss her innocence a little.” Garrus is quiet, contemplative for a moment. “I guess none of us can keep our innocence after what we’ve been through.” 

Shepard watches him carefully, this turian with the wonderfully sarcastic voice and scarred face. He gets the feeling there’s a lot of history between them. Good history. 

“How about the others?” he prompts.

“Well, as you’d expect, Wrex is leading his people on Tuchanka. Trying to get them to see sense, although I’m not sure how far that will go. I hope far enough to make sure we didn’t survive the Reapers only to get taken out by the krogan.” 

Shepard snorts. Truthfully, he has trouble reconciling his ethics and his apparent actions. Not that the genophage was a good thing, just a necessary one. Wrex must’ve been something special to change his view on that. 

Or maybe things just change. He used to think people were incapable of it after a certain age, but maybe he’d been wrong. The Apocalypse would’ve been a good time to test that theory.

“James is at N7 training,” Garrus continues. “Miranda is rebuilding Cerberus, just without the evil this time. She’ll be here when they fix you. Tali... “ His voice goes soft, and Shepard hides a smirk. “Well, she’s the current - and first - quarian ambassador. They’re going to make her a Council member soon.”

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Shepard says sincerely, and Garrus smiles - as much as a turian can smile, anyway.

“Have you heard from Spectre Alenko?”

“Once or twice a week. Vancouver was hit harder than they’d realized, and he doesn’t always have access.” 

“That must be hard.”

“Well,” Shepard says wryly, rubbing the back of his neck, “it’s not like I can remember him.”

“But you’re falling in love again. I can see it on your face.” 

He doesn’t try to deny it, finds that he can’t meet the turian’s eyes, unexpectedly shy with the rush of blood to his face.

“You humans are always so expressive. I’m amazed you’re capable of subterfuge at all.” 

“Not all of us are,” he points out. “Not even many of us. It’s a skill.”

“And I’ve seen you use it,” Garrus says. “You’re a match for anyone in the galaxy, Shepard. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

His flush deepens. “Are you ready to go?”

Garrus nods decisively and stands up. “Shall I help you? No? You don’t need it, then. Well then, shall I treat you like royalty instead? No, after you, o mighty prince of humanity,” he finishes with a bow.

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Shepard grumbles under his breath.

“I suppose it will be bad enough when you leave this place. You humans really do love your hero worship.”

Other than escaping out a side entrance and into an alley, leaving the hospital turns out to be rather anticlimactic. Kristen and his physical therapists all hug him tightly and promise not to tell the press he’s finally leaving. 

Garrus balks once the Alliance drops them off at the apartment building, however. 

“You’re making him live  _ here?  _ This is nightmare territory,” he tells the building’s guard reproachfully. “We fought the Reapers right outside this door.”

“Sir, I’m only here to watch over the building,” the man says, eyeing the turian with a hint of alarm. Shepard gets it; Garrus apparently has a reputation, and he’s a good foot taller than the guard is, despite the fact that he’s a big guy. 

“This is unbelievable,” Garrus grumbles as he stalks past Shepard and into the building. Shepard salutes the guard, catching his eye and smiling. No hard feelings here. The guard salutes and nods back. 

“Why did you have to scare that poor man?”

“They’re constantly going on about how they care about their veterans, and about how their PTSD counseling services are among the best in the galaxy. Yet they put you... here.” He sounds disgusted. 

“Sit down,” Shepard tells him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll make us drinks. Looks like they gave us quite the bar” 

Garrus continues to grumble, but he obeys. The living room is small - the entire apartment is small - but it’s quite cozy nonetheless, two small couches and a table in an alcove in front of several windows. 

Shepard finds Garrus staring out of them, wearing a morose expression. 

“Kaidan went down right over there - right in the corner, underneath that awning. You were surrounded, two banshees and three or four husks in the middle of the street. I’ll never forget how you screamed.” 

He stops, and John leans forward, rapt. Unworried, too; it helps that he doesn’t remember any of it. 

“As badass a vanguard as you were, Shepard, even you couldn’t have won that fight on your own. I got shot by a Marauder, right in my shoulder, and thought I’d never have a chance to rescue you. Nearly went down to my knees. My vision left me. If I hadn’t fought through that...” He shakes his head. “But I did. I shot one of those bitches right in the back of the head. Got her in one shot. Then you fought like a man possessed to get to Kaidan in time.”

John stares out the window, hard-pressed to imagine it. Military vehicles pass them regularly, but there are a few civilian ones on the road as well. A reminder that they made it. That things can be rebuilt, that they  _ will _ be rebuilt. 

“It’s okay, Garrus,” he finally says. “I don’t remember it anyway, but even if I did... We won the war. Palaven, Earth, Sur’Kesh... We’re free.”

Garrus looks at him for a long time. “I know. It was like a miracle. Felt like every step of the process was miraculous. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so maudlin. This place just brought it all back.”

“Do you still want to stay with me for the weekend? You don’t have to.”

“Oh, no. You won’t get rid of me that easily.” 

John chuckles and raises his glass. “To old friendships made new again, and to the undying spirit of organic life.”

“To the  _ Normandy _ !” 

  
  


*** 

  
  


“I hear you’re trying the obstacle course.”

“I’m thinking about it,” John hedges. “There’s no way of knowing whether this body can handle that kind of stress until I try.”

Kaidan’s lips press into a thin line. He’s pissed and trying not to show it. John feels the warmth of fond concern like a blanket. “You don’t need to put yourself under that kind of stress. The war’s over, John. You’ve done enough.”

He nods and looks at his fingers, which are twisted in his lap. Nervous, but not willing to back down. “This one is. The next hasn’t started yet, but when it does... I’ll be needed. In the Alliance or as a Spectre, either way. I can’t sit idly by on the sidelines.”

“Hackett was considering asking you to be an Admiral. You wouldn’t need to be in the thick of things again.” 

Shepard closes his eyes against the pleading in that voice. “You know me, Kaidan,” he says softly. “That’s not how I operate. I wouldn’t have become an N7 if that was the case. I’m sorry.” 

“I’m never going to stop trying to talk some sense into you, Shepard.”

Shepard gives him a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t have married someone who was just a yes man. Well... not in that way, at least.”

Kaidan blushes bright red. Shepard bites his lip; he wants to see how far down that blush goes. Pretty far, he’d wager. “We’re not on a private channel, Commander.” 

“You’re right. I apologize, Major. But hey - I’m not going to do it until you’re here with me, okay? That way if I break too badly, I’ll have you as my nursemaid.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Kaidan asks with suspicion.

“I don’t know. Did it work?” 

His husband laughs. “Maybe a little.”

  
  


***

  
  
  


True to his word, Shepard avoids the calls from the press and the troops to try the obstacle course until Kaidan arrives, and then he schedules it promptly, causing a great deal of chaos in the Alliance’s haste to comply with his wishes. 

“So I see you’re back to your old ways,” Kaidan says wryly, sipping his whiskey from a tumbler. Shepard makes a moue of disgust. Who still drinks whiskey? 

“And just what does that mean, Major?” 

“It means you say  _ jump _ and they ask  _ how high? _ Alliance, asari, turians... you don’t even remember yelling at them to fall in line, but you’re still doing it.” He shakes his head, staring at the ice in his glass. 

He’d given John an incredulous look when he’d arrived at the apartment, but the location hasn’t otherwise been mentioned. Shepard assumes it’s a squeaky wheel kind of thing - if Kaidan feels uncomfortable here, he can ask to be moved for the remainder of his visit. 

But Kaidan seems relaxed, relieved to be able to take off a few days, even though it means watching his husband run an obstacle course that could literally kill him. 

_ Good thing he wasn’t around when I went through it the first time. No high-tech bone weave in me then.  _

“I don’t think you’re going to have to worry too much,” Shepard tells him confidently. “Cerberus rebuilt me, remember? And they did it literally - I’ve seen the scans. I’m half machine myself, now.”

“Not quite as smart as one, though,” Kaidan says contemplatively. 

John lifts an eyebrow. “And how is that?”

“You don’t build a chassis and stress-test it against the biggest challenge you have.”

“Mn,” Shepard grunts. “What some call stupid or reckless, I call bold. Besides,” he jokes, “I really am part machine now. I bet I can beat the record.” 

“Please, don’t,” Kaidan begs with a groan. “Just get out of it alive first, will you?”

John looks out the window, unable to imagine the kind of ruins they’d had to fight in, even though he’s seen pictures and video. It looks, if not idyllic, at least average, the kind of place one could raise a family and live a comfortable life. 

“If it helps, it’s something I’m apparently very good at.” 

“It doesn’t, but thanks,” Kaidan says dryly. 

John just beams at him. 

  
  


***

  
  


He feels a measure of disappointment that Kaidan doesn’t sleep in his bed, their only night just the two of them, but he understands. It’s been a lot to unpack, and Kaidan has the additional deficit of having lost something tangible. Not something abstract like Shepard has, even though it’s no less meaningful. 

The flight to San Diego is silent but comfortable. Kaidan dozes in the seat next to him, and John wants nothing more than to pull Kaidan’s head down to rest against his shoulder. He’s very careful of Kaidan’s consent, however, willing to move at whatever pace the Major sets. 

Doesn’t mean it’s always easy, though. It feels like there’s so little time for the two of them, and how is he supposed to work his charm like that? As he’s been assured, he’s only human.

Once the obstacle course is in front of him, he feels that old familiar thrill, the adrenaline pumping through his veins a stronger drug than anything nanomeds could provide. None are allowed at the final N7 test, though of course nanomeds had been offered by a nervous young woman who seemed positive she’d be a member of the staff who’d helped kill the great Commander Shepard. John had just smiled and softly told her things would be fine. 

“Shepard!”

He turns from the window. A handsome krogan envelops him in the most painful hug of his life, then pats him on the back so hard he nearly flies across the floor.

“I was used to this sort of treatment once, I take it?” he asks wryly. 

“Are you kidding me?” asks the gruff-voiced krogan. “You headbutted one of us once. That wasn’t the first time I realized the size of the quad on you, and it wasn’t the last.” 

“I’ll take the honorary quad, then. I assume you’re Wrex?” 

“Urdnot Wrex, at your service. Dedicated leader of the krogan, and the biggest ass this side of the Milky Way, according to my wife, heh.” 

“I believe it,” Shepard says sincerely, turning back to the window, hands crossed behind his back. “Are you here to watch me run the course?” 

“Watch?  _ Pah _ ! You really have forgotten, haven’t you. Downside of a single nervous system, I suppose. I’m here to challenge you.” 

John feels the grin light up his face. “Oh boy, Kaidan isn’t going to like this.” 

“Ah, yes, Spectre Alenko. How has he been doing, by the way?” Wrex asks, stretching his body in a manner Shepard can’t believe the krogan capable of. If this big sonofabitch is this limber, he’ll really have to have his game face on. “I haven’t seen him since before that last push. Left the planet shortly before he arrived.” 

“He’s doing well,” Shepard says. “He’ll be in the audience. Probably having a heart attack.” 

Wrex grunts, staring at the course with Shepard. “Nah, he’s made of sterner stuff than that. Doesn’t look like it, though.” 

“Neither do I, to be fair.” 

“True. I don’t know how the two of you fight together, either. Smell like a pair of pyjacks in heat. Which I guess you sort of are!” he says with a laugh and another slap on Shepard’s back. He’s pretty sure he’ll have a bruise by this time tomorrow. “Let’s see which one of us is the bigger krogan, eh? What are you waiting for?” 

With a sideways smile, Shepard follows him down the stairs. 

  
  


***

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

In the end, Shepard doesn’t beat Wrex, though he comes closer than either of them figured he would. The course itself is a breeze, much easier than it had been when he’d taken the exam. Seems this body and all its modifications exceed expectations, much to Shepard’s satisfaction. 

And the world’s. He’s hounded by the press and the brass and every Tom, Dick, and Harry that wants a piece of the man who saved the galaxy. It’s disconcerting. He doesn’t get to see Kaidan the entire evening, and he doesn’t fall into bed until nearly midnight. Way too damn late. 

Kaidan arrives at the compound the following morning to take him to breakfast, though, which is a pleasant surprise. 

“So did you have a heart attack yesterday? Sorry I didn’t get to see you after. It was a mess.”

“I heard. They converged on you like vultures, press and military alike.” Kaidan sounds peeved; Shepard doesn’t blame him. “I’m just glad al-Jilani didn’t get a piece of you. Who knows what would’ve happened?”

“Al-Jilani?” 

Kaidan eyes him sideways, a sly look on his face. “Ah, so you weren’t made aware of her at your debriefing? Or was it a briefing?”

“Briefing? I think. Anyway, no - there were much bigger things on my plate at the time.”

Kaidan snorts, then starts peeling an orange and setting the pieces on Shepard’s plate. “In that case, I’m a little sad she didn’t get to talk to you.” 

Shepard raises an eyebrow at the orange pieces and comment alike. “Is there something special about her?”

“You, ah, you could say that.” He dumps a few more slices on Shepard’s plate. “I’m sure the extranet footage is out there.” He can’t seem to keep the grin off his face. It’s adorable.

“You’re adorable,” he says without thinking, but doesn’t regret it.

“Ah, so you say. Frequently, I might add.” 

“I think I miss you,” John says quietly, suddenly serious. “It’s like there’s a piece of myself out there in the universe, only it’s sitting right in front of me.” 

“You know,” Kaidan starts, chewing on his lip in an effort to say this right, “you once told EDI that nobody ever falls in love without being a little bit brave. I wonder if she felt Joker was the second half of her soul, too.” 

“I’ve heard we’ll be able to ask her soon, if things continue as planned.”

Kaidan nods and finishes peeling the orange. Shepard thinks the smell of citrus will remind him of this conversation in the coming years. Assuming he can remember anything - he’s not too impressed with his brain at the moment. “She was smart. The backup wasn’t perfect, but they think she’ll regain enough of what she was before to remember the best parts.”

“I’m happy for Joker,” Shepard responds sincerely. “He’s got enough sarcasm for an entire platoon of cynics, but his hope and his heart must’ve been a beacon for all of you when things got tough.”

“For you, too, Shepard. He was loyal to you. For some reason,” Kaidan finishes with a laugh.

“Mn, laugh it up, husband.” Shepard grins at Kaidan’s blush. “It sounds like my entire crew was full of people like that.”

“Ah, I had heard you met with Garrus.” Kaidan’s moved on to the yogurt, but he hasn’t completely left the fruit behind. His plate is smothered in slimy blueberries. Shepard wants nothing more than to eat one out of Kaidan’s bellybutton. “But there’s more. In fact... I’m leaving tomorrow morning, and don’t give me that face, either; you know I don’t want to go. Tonight, though, you’ll get to meet Liara. And Javik.”

His ears perk up and he gives Kaidan an excited look. “Javik? The Prothean?”

“The very same. Pretty sure there’s only one of him in the galaxy. Literally and figuratively.”

“I heard he was a... character,” John hedges, unsure of the relationship between the two of them.

“He also told you this would be his final fight, and that he would join his ancestors after it was done. Truth be told, I’m surprised he’s still hanging around. Tonight should be interesting - a double date with two people who couldn’t stand each other when they first met.” 

Shepard reaches across the table and steals a spoonful of the slimy mixture, chuckling at Kaidan’s incredulous frown. If he can’t taste it off his husband’s skin, he’ll take what he can get and imagine the rest. “Sounds like a good time.”

“It will be. And if you’re on your best behavior, I might even kiss you at the end of the night.”

Shepard’s eyes sparkle when he responds, “Then I look forward to it even more.” 

  
  
  


***

  
  


Liara is stunning in her tight-fitting armor. When he spots her, he raises his eyebrows at Kaidan, who’s sitting beside him. Kaidan just rolls his eyes and stands to greet her. 

“So good to see you, Kaidan,” she says in a melodious voice. If Shepard weren’t as gay as the day is long, he’d be falling at her feet right now. He doesn’t understand how Kaidan hasn’t. “And I hope I get a hug from your illustrious husband, as well.”

Shepard obliges her, fondness welling up in him. She holds on for a long time, and her eyelashes are suspiciously moist when she pulls back to look him full in the face. “You don’t look a day older than when I saw you last, but I heard you were barely alive when they found you.” Then she smacks him on the arm.

“Ow,” he says sullenly, playing up the pout. “What was that for?” 

Kaidan motions for her to sit, pulling out her chair, and answers for her. “She’s not exactly crazy about that stunt you pulled at the end, either.” 

“It was the right choice, regardless,” a voice says from behind him. 

Liara’s face goes soft, and even though the Prothean - the Prothean! - doesn’t seem to respond favorably, or at all, really, Shepard can tell that what they have together is as real as what he has with Kaidan. 

“Why do you have to go and be the voice of reason?” she grumbles good-naturedly as they all take their seats. “We’re allowed to be peeved, you know.” 

“Unregulated emotion serves no purpose,” he responds with a practiced sort of haughtiness that Shepard can see right through. 

“Mm-hmm. Who says it’s unregulated?”

“You hit him, did you not?”

“I did. And I could’ve flung him across the room instead. Which, by the way, you would have enjoyed, and don’t you try to deny it.”

He looks away with a scowl. “I was molded by violence, you silly asari. You do not have to follow in my footsteps.”

“There’s no chance of that, believe me.” She takes her napkin and settles it in her lap. “Now, Shepard, where were we?”

Dinner is good. The Alliance had, unsurprisingly, spared no expense. San Diego hadn’t been hit as hard as many other urban centers. There had been a strong resistance, and many of the buildings remained standing. 

He catches up with them, fascinated by their relationship. Liara is as lovely in personality as she is in form, and while it doesn’t surprise him that she is also known to be deadly - anyone on his crew would have had to be - it does shock him to learn that she is the Shadow Broker herself. 

“You can’t - ” he hisses, “you can’t say that out loud!” 

She blinks and glances around them. There is not a soul in sight at the moment. “We have a restaurant to ourselves. And anyone who might be listening in - which is impossible, because I de-bugged the place myself - would already know.”

Shepard feels dazed, like he’d been hit by a two-by-four. Well, maybe like he’d been hit by a two-by-four back before the bone weave and all the other upgrades. “My life must’ve been very interesting,” he muses, scratching his head. 

“ _ May you live in interesting times  _ was always a backhanded compliment,” Kaidan says with a wry smile, “and boy, did we.”

Javik sets his fork down and stares at Shepard, who finds the feeling of so many eyes on him a little disconcerting. “It is a good thing you did, because no one else could have done it.” 

“That’s a rare compliment,” Liara not-whispers. “You should say thank you.” 

“There is no need,” Javik says with a sideways glance. “I speak only the truth.”

Shepard is touched, regardless. “I... Well, I doubt that’s true. Maybe few, but I’m not the only one.” He doesn’t want to be the only one - who can handle that kind of pressure? 

Kaidan grips his hand under the table, a solid presence. The man sure knows how to read him, because he knows his discomfort isn’t obvious to anyone else. Well, maybe to the Prothean, but it’s hard to hide from a creature that can read your physiology. 

“So Liara, when are you leaving Earth?” Kaidan asks to change the subject. Shepard could kiss him. 

Shepard  _ will  _ kiss him later. 

“Oh, I’m meeting with... what’s left of the Council next week. We are discussing the addition of other races. There will be a human councilor, and as you know, Tali will be joining us for the quarians.”

Javik sneers - as much as he can, anyway, with his permanently sour face. “Quarians,” he mutters under his breath. Kaidan can’t quite hide his snicker. 

“We are also considering the elcor, hanar, and volus. Speaking of which, I will never be able to look at a volus the same way again,” she says with a glare in Kaidan’s direction.

Kaidan is inexplicably blushing. 

“Hm? What’s this, Major?” 

“I’ll tell you later,” he says, but Liara stops him. 

“Oh, no. We all had to suffer through that information, so consider it payback.”

Shepard laughs but squeezes Kaidan’s hand under the table. “I take it there’s a good story here?” 

“I thought you were too drunk to remember that!” Kaidan groans. 

“As if I didn’t go back and listen to that conversation when I was sober.” 

“Then you have no one to blame but yourself,” Kaidan says with a sniff. “Wait, you bugged the  _ Normandy _ ? Really?”

“No,” she says slowly, “There’s no need to bug a ship when you’ve got an AI aboard.”

“Ah, right.” 

Kaidan finishes stalling and puts his head in his hands when Liara tells the story of their trivia night. Shepard laughs uproariously when it’s over, much to Kaidan’s dismay. 

“I’d be even more embarrassed if you weren’t... who you are,” Kaidan tells him with a gesture that encompasses all of him. 

Liara grins. Shepard’s pretty sure she’s actually evil. “Oh, yes, I haven’t even started on you,” she purrs. 

They’re all flustered by the time they take their leave, including the Prothean. 

Kaidan takes his hand and walks with him several blocks down to the pier. The ocean breeze is pleasant, though the temperature remains too high for Shepard’s taste. Kaidan’s too, he thinks - between artificial environments on starships and space stations and the cold weather in Vancouver, he’d probably prefer to be somewhere cooler. 

But glancing over at his husband, Shepard realizes there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than wherever Kaidan Alenko is, even if that place were the pits of hell. 

Kaidan’s face turns an interesting shade of red when he catches Shepard staring. “What?” he asks, leading Shepard to sit at the edge of the pier.

“I can’t admire you?”

“Is that what you’re doing?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Kaidan doesn’t seem to have an answer, but he does inch close enough to Shepard to lay his head on Shepard’s shoulder. Shepard can feel his heart rate spike. He breathes deeply, catching a hint of Kaidan’s military-issue deodorant and the faint musk of his sweat. His groin begins to stir, his body responding by muscle memory.

“What would happen if I ran my fingers through your hair?” Shepard asks suddenly. He’s wanted to since he first met Kaidan, but it just seemed so perfectly in place and he hadn’t wanted to mess it up. 

“Hm?” Kaidan asks. With his head resting on Shepard’s shoulder, his voice thrums through Shepard’s flesh, making him shiver. 

Shepard’s fingers are itching with the need to do it. “It doesn’t look like you put any product into it, but it still somehow… sits like this?”

“You’d get a shock, most likely. It’s caused by static buildup from the L2 implants.”

“Ah, right.” He still wants to play with it. 

“I heard from Miranda Lawson, by the way,” Kaidan says, lifting his head. He’s so close, smiling so sweet, so open. God, Shepard wants him. Shepard loves him. Still. Again. 

“Yeah?” he asks, trying to focus on the conversation instead of Kaidan’s lips. 

“They’re almost ready to do the procedure. She’s hopeful it’ll be within the next few months.” 

Silvery moonlight reflects off the water. The ocean breathes on them. If Shepard could stop time, it’d be here.

“That’s great,” he says quietly. “It’ll be good to get it all back again.” But it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t, either; he’d fall for Kaidan time and time again, he’s sure of it. Kaidan might not feel the same, though, so he doesn’t say it aloud. 

Kaidan stands and stretches, wincing when his knee pops. “I’ve gotta get you back to the base.”

“Do you?”

Kaidan doesn’t respond, just grabs Shepard’s hand and pulls him up. Shepard purposefully lets himself be overbalanced, and Kaidan grins when he’s suddenly in his space. He knows what Shepard’s doing. 

And suddenly - suddenly, John can’t take any more. He leans in and presses his lips to Kaidan’s, open-mouthed, breathing hot against Kaidan’s lips. He lets Kaidan set the pace, though, doesn’t try to take over and guide Kaidan where he wants him - not yet. This is still asking permission, testing where he can go. 

Kaidan teases him, pulling back when John wants to deepen the kiss and chasing when he pulls away. He bites Kaidan’s lip in retaliation at one point, drawing out a low moan, and oh, Shepard likes that. He likes that very much, so he does it again.

His lips tingle and he’s dizzy from lack of air when they finally move away from each other. Kaidan rests his forehead against Shepard’s, panting just a little. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that from the moment I heard your voice,” Shepard admits, cupping Kaidan’s cheek in one hand. “Thank you.” 

Kaidan swallows hard. “For what?” 

“For… everything. For being mine. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll try to keep deserving you.”

Kaidan kisses him again, soft and brief. “You don’t need to do anything, John.”

“Stay with me tonight?” Shepard asks. 

Kaidan grabs the hand still cupping his cheek and nods after a moment. “Okay. Yeah.”

They sleep in the same bed. Clothed, but Kaidan lets Shepard wrap his arms around him and pull him close. John marvels at how quickly the man falls asleep. The amount of trust it takes to just nod off like that - he can’t imagine. He’s never felt like that with his other lovers, able to shut the world out and drop off the edge of consciousness on a dime. He’s never fallen asleep before his bedmate. 

He doesn’t want to be unconscious now, either, not while holding something this precious in his arms. Not while he doesn’t know how long it will be before he gets to hold it again. His body is exhausted, though, and he nods off quickly despite himself.

  
  


***

Shepard is unceremoniously shipped back to his temporary home in London, and Kaidan to his own in Vancouver. Now that John has an idea how well this new/old body works, he’s itching to try it in the field. They haven’t given him much to do besides paperwork and remote briefings with the Council. They’ve agreed to keep him on as a Spectre, on the condition the Alliance clears him for duty first. 

“Come on,” he pleads to Tevos, the surviving Asari councilor, who he does not remember but who definitely remembers him, if her amused expression is anything to go by. “You’ve seen the vid. I almost beat the  _ king of Tuchanka _ at an obstacle course.”

“Indeed,” she says, “and the king of Tuchanka would undoubtedly have you running an entire fleet while barely conscious if he could snatch you. Going by the judgment of krogans is not the height of wisdom, Spectre. The Alliance understands human abilities more than anyone else in the galaxy. Therefore, we will leave it up to them to say when you are ready to serve the galaxy again.”

“They - ‘understands human abilities?’ Councilor, with all due respect, don’t you think I’ve proven my abilities above and beyond?”

“Yes, you have. And then you were in an explosion that left you with brain damage and that you were lucky to survive.” She takes a deep breath and makes a face Shepard can only interpret as exasperated. “Shepard, were it up to me, I would let you go do whatever you need to do. I won’t mistrust you again. But I am not the queen of the galaxy, nor should I be. The others desire caution and discretion. Please leave it be for now. Do what you can there.”

Shepard is frustrated enough to tear hair out if he had any, but not so much that he can’t be grateful to the asari councilor, who has been nothing but sincere. Therefore, he ends the call before tossing a knife at the dartboard and nailing it to the wall with extreme prejudice. 

_ Hey - at least it was a bullseye. _

The apartment is stifling, the small space that had been perfect for him when he’d first gotten out of the hospital now crowding around him. There aren’t even any training facilities here, and at the moment, he’s without transportation to the base. 

He needs to quell the ants crawling underneath his skin. 

He needs a fight. 

So Shepard makes his way down to the first floor and politely taps the guard on the shoulder. The guard quickly stands to attention. Shepard chuckles.

“Ah, no need for that. I’m not your commanding officer. And yes, I’m at a higher rank than you, I get it. Please, be at ease.”

“Yes, Commander Shepard, sir.” 

Shepard sighs at the formality. Finding a fight might be harder than he’d thought. These guys are probably too scared to go up against the ‘man who saved the galaxy.’

“I could use some exercise, if you take my meaning.” 

The man shuffles awkwardly and side-eyes him as though unsure if he should say ‘yes’ even though he clearly wants to say ‘no.’ It takes Shepard a moment to parse why the guard is so nervous before it occurs to him -  _ if you take my meaning. _ He thinks Shepard wants to fuck. 

Trying his best to hold back laughter, he pats the guard on the shoulder. “What’s your name, son?”

“Uh, Private First Class Yeager, sir.”

“Private First Class Yeager, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Commander John Shepard, but you already knew that. Please call me John.”

“Uh. John. Okay.” The first-name basis is not helping poor PFC Yeager in the least.

“Okay. Now that really awkward greetings are out of the way, what I meant to say was, do you have any combat experience?” 

“Oh. Oh!” PFC Yeager turns beet red, having realized his mistake. “I… very little, sir. I was in charge of guarding supply caravans in remote areas of Germany, near my home. We had very little activity up until near the end of the war.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t be much of a challenge… but you can ask my C.O. He’s working in the abandoned storefront across the square. I can go retrieve him if you like.” 

“That’s fine, just direct me where to go.”

Shepard makes his way as directed, enjoying the fresh air. The dust has settled now, nearly a year after the end of the Reaper war, quite literally. The sun is visible in the sky again; flowers bloom and trees grow strong again. Farmers are now seeing the fruits of their labor, those fears of what might’ve happened to the climate if the Reapers had continued their assault for years now buried under hope for the future. 

Here in the city, the biggest reminders of the past are the scratches and bruises along stretches of infrastructure, the crumbling of certain buildings or sections of town, and the echoes of lost souls. John wishes he could remember them as more than just concepts. He wonders if Thane was really as gentle a soul as he seemed, if Mordin’s sarcastic chaos worked well alongside his own calculated recklessness. He wonders what Ashley Williams would think of his relationship with Kaidan, if she would approve. If she’d blame him for leaving her behind. 

The summer heat does nothing for his blood. He feels it coursing through his veins like molten metal. His amp - his amp! - buzzes underneath his skin, dying to let loose his newfound (old?) biotics. They’ve only let him play with them a couple times under strict supervision because he’d never had any military training with it; what he’d had with Cerberus was questionable at best, and besides that, he doesn’t remember it. But the muscle memory is there. He knows that if a Reaper landed in front of him right now, he’d figure out what to do quickly enough. 

PFC Yeager’s commanding officer, Sergeant Planck, has his temporary office in what was once a storefront. He waves John in to enjoy the air conditioning. 

“I hear you’re wanting to test your skills,” the man says, not beating around the bush. “As I’m the highest-ranking military member here on short notice, all I can say is, with all due respect, do you think it’s wise?”

“I think my body is capable of holding its own in a fight, yes, sir.”

He waves away the honorific. “You’re my superior; there’s no ‘sirs’ here. And that isn’t what I meant, anyway. I mean that, despite my extensive combat experience and training, do you think I can take one hit from you without crumbling to a lifeless heap on the ground?” 

Shepard can’t help but laugh. “I can assure you, I know when to hold back. A sparring session with someone outside my crew is always one in which I exercise caution.” 

The sergeant looks grim for a moment, weighing his options - say no to Commander Shepard, who is obviously itching to work through something, or potentially… what, die? 

As though he realizes how silly this is, the officer stands up from behind his desk and shakes hands with Shepard. “You know, it’s been a while since I’ve had a good one-on-one myself. No weapons. Biotics?”

Shepard looks at him with surprise. “Toned down? You’ve got them?”

“L3-class, nothing as fancy as yours, of course. I’ve heard of some of the stuff you can do. Shouldn’t even be possible. I’m no slouch, though. You’ll get yours.”

Shepard grins. This should be fun. 

There’s a park several blocks away from their position. This area of London hasn’t been opened to many civilians just yet, so there are few people around to worry about. It’ll be impossible to avoid drawing a crowd, though, and even more impossible to convince those in the crowd not to film it. Shepard only hopes Planck won’t get in trouble for the sake of his restlessness. 

Planck removes his stuffy uniform top, tossing it on the ground in a heap, revealing a well-built, scarred chest. Shepard makes a mental note to ask what the war had been like for him as he removes his own plain black t-shirt. He is smaller and shorter than the other man, though not by much. 

Shepard’s tactical brain takes over as they get into sparring position. The height and weight difference will be negligible; more important than that will be age and conditioning. Planck is a good five years his senior, he’s willing to bet, and has been stuck in an office for heaven knows how long. John has, too, in essence, but he also has the advantage of upgrades. 

“Let’s start without biotics,” he says. “I want to see what you’re made of first.” 

Planck grins and then launches an attack. 

He’s fast, Shepard will give him that, and he knows better than to use all of his strength on the first hit. He goes low, forcing Shepard off-balance into a sideways roll. Shepard bounces to his feet easily enough and cracks his neck. 

“Surely that’s not all you’ve got.”

“Just getting warmed up, Commander,” his opponent responds. “How about you, huh? Show me what you’ve got.”

Shepard clears his mind of everything but the target. He jabs, feints, steps back, and barely ducks underneath a heavy swing. Planck is good, but combat is second nature to Shepard; if it weren’t, he’d never have graduated as an N7. His next punch is an uppercut that manages to clip Planck’s collarbone before he can jump back. 

“Nice moves,” Planck says, impressed. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised, huh?”

“Keep in mind I’m made of more hardware than software these days,” Shepard jokes. Well, half-jokes.

“Wanna see what those biotics can do?” 

“Very much so.” 

By now, they’ve gathered an audience. John drowns their spectators out and focuses on the zing of eezo up his spine. His mind doesn’t remember this, but his body - his body lights up with sheer need, sharp and nearly painful. He marvels at the blue fire flaring across his skin, the zip of the mass effect field closing around him. 

Shepard can feel Planck’s amused eyes on him as he manipulates reality for what might as well be the first time. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined biotics could feel this good, like he’s wrapped in a cloak of lightning. Maybe it’s scary for some people - hell, probably most - but he isn’t most people. 

He balls one hand into a fist and channels the energy through it, only a trickle at first. Then, hit by inspiration, he pulls back that hand and punches the ground. 

The field around him dissipates into the earth, but every ounce of energy he’d held within is transferred with it. If Planck had been standing closer, Shepard might be in a load of trouble right now. 

As it is, the crowd is silenced by the display. Planck’s eyes are saucers; clearly, he’s never seen biotics work like that before. It takes him a moment to find his voice. 

“Ah,” he says, swallowing nervously, “I meant maybe trying a lift or even a throw. Not… whatever that was. What was that?” 

John shrugs. “I don’t know, but it felt like something I’ve been doing for a while now.”

“Where did you learn to harness biotics?” Planck asks, sounding fascinated and still somewhat terrified. 

“Cerberus,” Shepard replies absent-mindedly. “Huh. Who knew punching the ground could feel so satisfying.” 

“You didn’t learn that from Cerberus!” a voice calls from the crowd. “They’d have whipped our asses if you had.”

Shepard glances over to see a beast of a man wearing a grey N7 tee. His biceps, utterly obscene, bulge from the fabric, pulling it tight across his skin. The scars on his face and the severe military haircut should make him appear stern, more likely to punch first and ask questions later, but that’s the opposite first impression Shepard gets.

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met,” he says, extending a hand as the man makes his way through the crowd. 

The man ignores his hand and pulls him in for a hug almost as rough as the krogan’s had been.

“Ahh, Loco, we’ve done more than just meet. We  _ danced, _ ” he says, pulling back with a wink. “Though, uh, not in the way you and Kaidan do it.”

“I gathered. You called me ‘Loco.’ What’s your name?”

The man salutes crisply. “Lieutenant James Vega, sir.” Then he relaxes and throws an arm around Shepard’s shoulders. “I had the honor of serving under you on the  _ Normandy SR-2 _ when it left Earth.”

“Well, Lieutenant Vega, I wish I could say I remembered you. I’m sure they’d be good memories.”

“So you don’t remember anything, huh? That’s gotta be wild.”

“You could say that. Hell of a story to wake up to.”

Vega chuckles. “I bet. Say, you wanna get some beers with me and Cortez? We’re on leave together for once. It’ll be just like old times.”

“Sergeant Planck and I were - ”

“Sergeant Planck is going nowhere near you. No offense, Commander,” Planck says with a rueful shake of his head. “They said you could knock out a banshee in one hit. Always thought they were full of shit, but now I don’t think they are.” 

Vega reaches over and slaps him on the back, too, dragging him along in the direction of Shepard’s apartment. “Not one hit. Two, sometimes. There’s a reason we call him  _ Loco _ .” 

“I’ll chat with you later, Sergeant,” Shepard says with a sloppy salute, tugged along at Vega’s insistence. 

Vega is good company. Where Liara T’soni had been sharply sweet and clever, James Vega is all sunny smiles and straightforward cheer. He guides them straight to his military-issue humvee and sets a course for a small bar on the other side of London. Shepard is captivated by the man, how kindly he speaks of others, how utterly genuine he seems, and how even talk of the war doesn’t bring his spirits down. Shepard doesn’t say it, but he would place a substantial bet that he himself was the one to nominate James for the N7 program.

The bar, shamelessly named  _ The King’s Organ _ , sits in the middle of a suburban downtown. This area, popular with the Alliance, is doing good business. The scents of crisp oil and fried food hang heavy in the air, and Shepard realizes with a start that he is starving. 

Another man hails them from a table along the opposite wall. Shepard’s eyes are drawn to his kind blue eyes, the crow’s feet just starting to form around them. The look he gives Vega is warm; in return, he receives a hug that nearly sweeps him off his feet and a pat on the back that makes him wince, though he does his best to hide it from Vega. Shepard can only laugh.

“I am glad to see you in one piece, Commander,” Cortez says with a smile, gesturing to the chair across from his. “Sorry this isn’t some fancy place that needs reservations. We’re just simple enlisted folks. Well, James is going to be N7 soon, probably with his own ship, so I’m about to be the only underling here.” 

“Aww, c’mon, don’t pout, Cortez! You’ll never just be an underling to me. You’ve seen me at my worst, which is pretty bad.” 

Shepard accepts the pitcher of beer from Cortez and pours himself a glass, admiring the way it foams. “I am not in need of anything fancy, rest assured. Though I’ll tell you up front, this experience won’t be able to top when I met Liara and Javik in San Diego, because Kaidan isn’t here to enjoy it with me.” 

Cortez nods his understanding. James, though, squawks in outrage. “Surely, we more than make up for it with how much cooler we are than them.”

“Vega,” Cortez says, patting his shoulder, “we can’t even watch biotiball with the Commander.” 

“Ah, you’re right, you’re right,” Vega responds sadly, as though that exchange makes any sense whatsoever. 

“So what did you think of Javik?” Cortez asks, appearing content to avoid the subject of Kaidan for now. Shepard remembers something about the man’s ex-husband falling to the Collectors not long before they’d met. It’s unnecessary, but he appreciates the sensitivity. 

“Javik is one mean sonofabitch,” Vega says. 

“Wasn’t asking you.”

“I only speak the truth!” 

Shepard flags down the waiter. The bar is busy enough to require him to duck between patrons. As good a sign as any that the world is returning to normal. He only hopes the fish and chips are as good as he remembers from the last time he was on Earth, back before all this started. 

“Javik… “ he starts, but he isn’t sure how to continue. The prothean had sent him a lot of long, complicated looks throughout their dinner. Shepard had felt flayed open and exposed, vulnerable, but not in a way that made him feel uncomfortable. “He… knew my secrets, I think. Some better than I did.”

“Judgy fucker,” Vega snorts into his beer.

“I don’t think so,” Shepard says slowly. “Or at least, if he judged me, I passed the test.”

Vega gives him an unimpressed look. “Well of course you did. You single-handedly destroyed the enemy that caused the extinction of his entire species.”

“Single-handedly?” Shepard asks dubiously. 

Vega raises a hand to forestall further objection. “You had us, I know. But the hard shit was all you. And I don’t mean the fighting. Anyone can fight, and it wasn’t what won us the war, in the end. I’m talking about when you made the quarians back down and saved their ungrateful asses, and when you released the genophage cure and told that salarian dalatrass to stuff it. That is the stuff of legends.” 

Shepard rubs the back of his neck, uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to be a legend. He’s just a man. 

“Ah, Vega, that’s not important now.” Cortez’s gaze softens when he looks back at Shepard. “How is Kaidan?” 

John is surprised to feel himself blush. “Doing well. We have contact as often as possible. I don’t think they’ll keep us separated for much longer.”

“Will you be going to Vancouver, then? Or is he coming back here?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to be here for the procedure, whenever that ends up being. In the meantime, there isn’t much I can do here that I couldn’t do elsewhere, and the doctors know I’m not crazy by now.”

“Didn’t I tell you your name was  _ Loco _ ? Better not let ‘em talk to me,” Vega says, slamming back his beer. Cortez grabs the pitcher from in front of him and sets it to the side, shaking his head slightly when Vega pouts. “If I told ‘em what I saw you do, they’d lock you up for the next hundred years. I can’t believe they let you walk around.”

Shepard shakes his head with a chuckle, remembering his biotic display at the park. “I can’t either, if that show was any indication.”

Vega forces the pitcher from Cortez, pours himself a glass, and raises his pint. “A toast to Commander Shepard!” he yells, getting the attention of the entire bar. Shepard feels himself flush again but he raises his own glass in thanks. “The best and  _ craziest _ motherfucker I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.”

Later, turning on his apartment lights, he thinks maybe bar food has never tasted so good. The simplicity of being alive, of eating and drinking and spending time with friends - these aren’t things to take lightly. By all accounts, he shouldn’t be here, but he is. He  _ is.  _

But there’s still one thing missing. And John Shepard is through waiting for it. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

  
  
  


Two short weeks after their goodbyes at the bar, Shepard receives a call from Cortez, who gives him the best news he’s had since the day he woke up. Four hours after, he’s on his way to Vancouver, marveling at the impressive abilities of the man who was once his shuttle pilot. 

Cortez doesn’t leave the shuttle when he touches down, just gives Shepard a salute and a wink as he flies off, unable to spare more time. He’d had to pull out all the stops to get them to allow him to fly John here himself, delaying his own flight off-planet by half a day. Shepard watches him go, feeling a strange sense of loss in knowing his crew has been scattered to the winds without him. He only hopes they can meet as often as possible in the future. Even if he never gets his memories back, he doesn’t want to lose touch with them. The bonds they’ve made in the crucible of war have been strong enough to overpower his amnesia, and it’s a mighty humbling thing.

He takes a military escort to Kaidan’s home, fifteen miles from the Vancouver base. It’s a small vineyard on the coast near Horseshoe Bay. It’s quite an idyllic scene, almost like it could’ve come out of a motion picture from the late twentieth century. The war had somehow managed not to touch this place - or if it had, Shepard can’t see any sign of it. Small batches of grapes grow beside the meandering driveway, not carefully held in place, but wild, uncontrolled, which he takes to mean there will be no harvest this year. So not completely untouched. 

Shepard finds Kaidan sweeping in front of the garage, still in his BDUs. He turns to see who’s walking up and does a double take, but can’t exclaim his surprise before Shepard envelops him in a bear hug. 

“Surprise,” he murmurs, kissing Kaidan’s temple. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Kaidan says, hugging back tightly. Then he slaps the back of Shepard’s head. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, you ass?”

“Ow!” he pouts. “What was that for? I didn’t even know until a few hours ago.”

“Well, I guess I can forgive you. But you don’t get out of doing housework. Mom is on her way back from the countryside and I promised her I’d have this place in tip-top shape with dinner served.” 

Shepard reaches for the broom handle. “Just tell me what to do, and I’m all yours.” 

Kaidan gives him a smug grin. “You’re all mine, all right.” 

  
  


Shepard loses himself in the housework and cooking, though the latter spawns a battle for control of the kitchen. At first, he dances around his husband in an effort to help, but when he decides to try his hand at making his own dish, Kaidan physically forces him from the room.

“You are not ruining mom’s dinner, Shepard.”

“But I can cook!” he protests with a sulk. “Just let me make one dish.”

“No. I know you don’t remember this, but I was always the one who cooked when we visited your apartment on the Citadel. Let’s keep it that way.”

Shepard gives up and pulls a stool over to the island between the dining room and kitchen proper. “Fine. But you are letting me make you lunch tomorrow, and that’s an order.”

Kaidan gives him an inscrutable look, his face more serious than Shepard had expected with such a comment. He has no idea what it could mean, but shrugs it off. He’ll figure it out later. For now, there is chicken and rice to look forward to, and the day’s simple work has him starving. And watching Kaidan work is truly a sight to behold. Shepard can’t keep his eyes off that strangely perfect hair, hair he wants to run his fingers through just to see if it’ll create a static charge. And the man’s physique, god, how is it possible to be that sexy and handsome and downright sweet? Shepard must’ve done something right in a past life.

According to Kaidan, he met Mama Alenko over the QEC once. Of course he doesn’t remember any of it, so he’s definitely feeling nervous about meeting the in-laws. Kaidan assures him that there’s no way he will make a bad impression, no matter how embarrassing he can be, because he kind of saved the galaxy once, or maybe twice, or  _ three times, John, it’d be impossible to hate you,  _ but he still can’t manage to wrangle his nerves.

John’s fears are quickly laid to rest, though, because Mama Alenko hugs him tight, thanks him for all he’s done for the galaxy and for her son, and then hugs Kaidan and calls him her  _ snuggle bunny. _

Shepard’s eyebrows climb his forehead. The whole thing is made even better by Kaidan’s charming blush. When his mother goes to freshen up, Kaidan sends him a death glare that has no effect whatsoever.

“John, I swear to you, if you tease me about the snuggle bunny thing again, I will divorce you tomorrow.”

“Again, huh?” That sounds about right. “I honestly don’t think I’ve ever heard something that adorable.  _ Snuggle bunny? _ I suppose it suits you, at least from what I know of you. I haven’t had much opportunity to test my theory, though.”

Kaidan rolls his eyes at Shepard’s pout and pulls out a chair at the dining table. “Sit your ass down and behave, will you?”

He pretends to consider this seriously. “Hmm. What will I get for good behavior?”

“Me not kicking you out.”

He sticks his tongue out at Kaidan’s retreating back. “You are no fun, you know that?” he calls into the kitchen.

“You don’t believe that. Not even a little.”

Shepard grumbles under his breath. The man’s got a point.

It turns out he also has a point about the cooking. John isn’t sure what kind of spices Kaidan used, but the chicken is perfect, with just the right amount of seasoning. And chicken isn’t usually his favorite, either, not having grown up with it on Mindoir.

Kaidan doesn’t complain when he offers to clean up. They both have to tell his mother to sit  _ her  _ ass down, though, because she insists on doing it herself.

He can feel Kaidan’s eyes on him the whole time. It’s a little unnerving, but not in a bad way; it’s just that he is used to being the one studying the person he’s interested in. As it is, he feels like Kaidan’s prey.

“So,” Kaidan says when Shepard’s done, pulling him down the hall, “I don’t know if this counts as breaking the ‘no sleeping together before marriage’ rule I had to deal with growing up.” He giggles. Actually  _ giggles. _ John wants to eat him up, or maybe squish him. This sexy, talented, brilliant man is somehow  _ adorable _ on top of all that. “Because we  _ are _ married, but you wouldn’t know anything about that if I hadn’t told you, and I’m fairly certain mom wouldn’t appreciate a reenactment of our wedding night.”

_ I can only imagine _ . “Uh, technically you didn’t tell me.”

“Sure, sure. Point is, I want you to stay with me tonight. If you’re not comfortable, that’s fine. I don’t want to rush you - ”

Shepard tugs on Kaidan’s hand and stops in the hallway. “Kaidan, trust me when I say you aren’t rushing me. Not even a little.”

Kaidan nods once and then pulls him along again. “I forgot how eager you can be.”

_ What does that mean?  _ Shepard wonders with a snort of amusement.

“Anyway, this is my room. I know it’s small, but it’s been my room since just before I went to BAaT.”

It  _ is _ small, definitely a teenager’s room. On one wall, there are participation plaques from several years of baseball - he enjoys a moment of imagining Kaidan in a baseball uniform, especially those tight pants - and underneath it, a shelf of trophies. Over his bed is a poster for an electro-synth band he’s never heard of that’s been signed by the artists. The bed itself is a double; it will be a tight fit for the two of them. Shepard certainly doesn’t have any complaints about that. An old dresser sits against the wall opposite his bed. It looks like it’s on its last legs, about as ancient as Shepard feels some days, scuffed up and discolored in places.

It’s not much to write home about, but it’s cozy, and most importantly, it’s Kaidan’s. Anything of Kaidan’s is of interest to him.

Kaidan wastes no time changing into pajamas. He’s turned away from Shepard, but Shepard sees enough - the smooth skin of Kaidan’s back and the way his boxer-briefs hug his absolutely mouth-watering ass. He has to look away and palm his crotch because that sight is insta-boner territory. How did he land a man so goddamn gorgeous?

“Uh,” he says, clearing his throat, “which side of the bed do you want?”

“The right, if you don’t mind. You’re going to get dressed for bed, right?”

Oh, yeah. He should probably do that. “Do you mind if I sleep in my underwear?”

Kaidan gives him a look like he might be a little slow in the head. “Well, I don’t know, we’ve never gone that far before...”

“You sarcastic little shit,” John says, shaking his head. “I’m trying to be good over here. I usually sleep naked.”

Kaidan makes an exasperated noise. “I am very well aware of that fact, John. And I appreciate that you’re on your best behavior. You have a history of scandalizing the hell out of everyone.”

Shepard grins as Kaidan climbs into bed. He doesn’t want to take his shirt off because it means he’d have to take his eyes off of Kaidan. “From what I gather, that’s mostly Joker.”

“Repeatedly.”

“Well, if it’s worth doing once, it’s worth doing twice.”

Kaidan chuckles as he settles on his back, hands underneath his head and elbows pointed outwards. That’s not going to work for long; Shepard does  _ not  _ want to end up with a bloody nose because he rolled over at the wrong angle. He finally throws his shirt over his head and lets it land in a heap on the floor. That bed - or rather, the person in the bed - looks like just what he needs right now.

“Oh, right, before you lie down, would you mind grabbing my reading glasses from the drawer next to you?”

“Aren’t you a little young for reading glasses?” Shepard teases, then stops dead in his tracks.

“I have perfect vision, it’s just to help frame things so I can focus - John? What’s wrong?”

In response, Shepard tentatively reaches into the drawer and picks up what he’s found, showing it to Kaidan. “Is this your collar?” he asks quietly.

The tips of Kaidan’s ears turn a lovely shade of pink, but Kaidan meets his gaze steadily. “Yes,” he replies just as softly.

“I gave it to you?” Shepard can’t speak above a whisper.

“Yes. You gave it to me.”

He closes his eyes, overcome with feeling. Awe that this man would trust him that much. Fear that he’ll never remember it. Anger that it had been taken from him to begin with. And something else, a feeling so strong the word  _ love _ is laughably inadequate.

“Can I kiss you?”

Kaidan grabs him by the back of the neck and pulls him down to the bed. They both seem to lose it at the same time, months of pent-up frustration and longing crashing down on them in a wave of desire so strong it leaves John gasping against Kaidan’s mouth. He doesn’t think he’s ever wanted something this much in his entire life. 

He climbs on top of Kaidan, using his weight to keep him pressed into the bed. He can taste their dinner, the savory spices Kaidan had used on his hot breath. Kaidan opens up for him beautifully, kisses him for all he’s worth and spreads his thighs so that John can slot his own slim hips between them. They kiss until they’re breathless, until their lips are swollen and nearly bruised. 

John’s never been one for talking in bed - praise, yes, and dirty talk, but never exposing the depths of his emotions. Whatever happened between himself and Kaidan had changed something within him, something that hadn’t been lost in the explosion because here he is letting it all out like it’s second nature. 

“I’ve wanted to kiss you like that since before I even saw you. Just your voice was enough. It pulled on my  _ soul _ , Kaidan. I can’t even explain it; I don’t think there are any words for it. You’re just so - how do I - ”

Shepard doesn’t know what to say. So many thoughts are competing for the honor, but they all boil down to a simple truth - Shepard loves Kaidan with everything he is, and that fact will never change, even if he forgets himself entirely. 

He leans down to kiss Kaidan again, slower this time. He’s still overwhelmed with everything he wants to say, with knowing that no matter what he says or does, he’ll never be able to properly convey the depth of his feelings. 

“I don’t know how I can love you so much when I don’t even remember most of it,” Shepard says, resting his forehead against Kaidan’s. “It’s like I was born loving you. My soul knows yours somehow.”

Kaidan’s breath hitches, and when Shepard looks, there are tears shining in the low evening light. “Is it okay if I say I missed you? And part of me misses you still. God, this is stupid. You’re right here.” He reaches out to caress Shepard’s cheek. “You love me again; you love me still. It doesn’t matter.” 

“Yes, it does,” Shepard says gently, taking Kaidan’s hand and squeezing it tightly. “You’re allowed to grieve for what we had, even though we have something new now to look forward to in case things don’t work. But don’t lose hope that it’s lost yet, either.”

“I’m not giving up yet. But either way, you need to know that I am here no matter what happens to you. I’m still yours no matter what.” 

“I know.” And he does - Kaidan’s heart sings it to him every time he’s near. “Can I put this on you?” he asks, grabbing the collar from the nightstand again. “Do you want to wait, or have me get you a new one if things don’t… “ 

“No. I want you to put it on me. I want to wear it. Please.” 

Shepard nods and pulls Kaidan to a sitting position, facing away from him. They both gasp as the collar is fastened, then Shepard pulls Kaidan close and kisses the back of his neck, presses his lips against Kaidan’s pulse point and sucks gently at the skin. Kaidan leans into him, boneless and trusting. 

“Are you ready for bed, Major?” John asks. 

“I think so. I think I’ll sleep better tonight than I have in over a year.” 

“You slept well during the Reaper War?” 

Kaidan snuggles close, proving his snuggle bunny theory correct. “You were there to watch over me.” 

Shepard is speechless for a few moments as he pulls Kaidan’s head towards his neck, tucking him there. “I imagine I felt the same,” he finally says. “I wish I remembered.”

“You will.” Kaidan sounds utterly certain, and Shepard has a hard time doubting it. “You will.”

  
  
  


***

  
  


Miranda Lawson is a hard woman.

He’d expected as much, based on the information Admiral Hackett had given him. She’d been a Cerberus operative, by all accounts the one most responsible for his... rebirth... and then she’d defected when they’d blown the Collector base. Her aid during the Reaper War gained her not only a pardon for her crimes but a medal on top of it. But Shepard isn’t sure the cost is worth it.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have an opportunity to meet her until a few hours before the procedure. She’s the best in the business when it comes to restoring what people have lost, so to speak, so a lot of this process has been her brainchild. God, she looks so tired. Shepard’s heart goes out to her.

“I can’t imagine you’re thrilled about being in a hospital bed again,” she says in her exotic accent.

“You stole Kaidan’s chair,” he says with a pout.

Miranda rolls her eyes, but there is a fondness there. Like the others, their relationship had obviously been incredibly meaningful. “I’m the master of you for a few more hours. You’ll deal.”

“Of course I will.” Shepard’s quiet for a few minutes. He’s not sure how to convey his fear. Most people would not be able to tell - he’s good at hiding it - but he is absolutely terrified. Not getting his memories back would be horrible, but that isn’t the only risk. Far from it. “Are you sure this will work?”

“About ninety percent, I’d say. I’m not perfect, no matter what I was built for,” and she spits the word ‘built’ like it’s dirty in her mouth; he imagines it is, “but I think I did a pretty damn good job of it when you were fully brain dead before.” She shrugs. He reads something fatalistic in it. “You can back out now, if you want. You know that, don’t you?”

Something in his chest clenches at the tone of her voice. “I never thought you were going to force me into something, any of you. I’m alive against all odds, in large part thanks to what you did to save me the first time around. I never thanked you for that.”

“You did. In deed as well as word. I gave up the only life I’d ever known after spending a few months with you, and no one does that lightly.”

He supposes that’s true. He still owes her everything. Twice over, if this works. “I’m... scared,” he admits, and it’s not as much like pulling teeth to say it as he’d feared, “but I’m in the best hands in the galaxy. If you can’t do it, nobody can.”

“It’s an honor, Shepard. And a big responsibility, but I’m up to the task.”

He is amazed at everyone’s confidence. They must have been a special group, his companions, to have stayed by his side. Even without his memories, there is no doubt in his mind that he couldn’t have done it without a single one of them.

Miranda stares at her hands, deep in contemplation, for a while. Shepard lets her have her silence; he suspects she has something to say but doesn’t know how to say it. When she finally does open her mouth to speak, he’s not prepared for what she says.

“When you get nervous, think of this: I’ve more than just seen you naked. That’ll get your mind off of it.”

_ “More _ than? What does that even mean?”

“I’m an engineer, Shepard. We test things as we go.”

He stares at her in horror. It was clinical and necessary, he knows, but  _ wow _ is that a level of intimacy he wishes he didn’t have with anybody.

“I never knew you to be shy.” She has a pretty laugh. “Helping you was never a hardship. I didn’t want to half-ass the job and have you come back less than whole.”

“Well... in that case, I suppose I should be thanking you. Kaidan, too,” he says with a sly smile.

“I’m not sure Kaidan likes me,” she admits, “but he certainly respects me. And he believes in me, too. He’s a good man, Shepard. I’m happy for you.”

Shepard hears the distinct sound of a throat clearing. He looks to the doorway and sees a familiar face.

“We both thank you,” Kaidan says with a small smile. He’s nervous, too, possibly even more than John. “How much longer?”

“An hour or so. You’ll be with him when he goes under, and you’ll be with him when he comes back. I wouldn’t dream of separating the two of you.”

“Your exasperation is noted,” Kaidan says dryly. “I’ll do my best not to freak him out too much.”

“Never thought you would.” Miranda relinquishes the chair and shakes Kaidan’s hand. “I’ll see you both soon.”

Kaidan takes his hand and squeezes it. He stares at Shepard like he’s drowning, like he  _ wants  _ to drown. There is sadness and regret in his gaze, but there is hope, too. “Try not to judge me too harshly,” he murmurs finally. “When you get your memory back... it was... I was... “

Shepard stops him right there. “There is nothing you could have done differently, and I forgave you a long time ago anyway. I’d rather have a man who lives according to his morals, even if those decisions don’t turn out the way they were supposed to in the end, than someone I couldn’t count on. I fell in love with you, and I understood the consequences of that because I knew you. It was what I wanted. You, the person you are.”

“How do you even know?”

“I’ve heard the story. I can add things together, you know.”

Kaidan accepts this more easily than Shepard had feared he would. “Aren’t you tired of the  _ beep-beep-beep _ of these damn monitors by now?”

“Unbelievably so.”

“It’ll be over soon. Then we can go home.”

“For a while,” Shepard says seriously. “I have a ship waiting for me, you know.”

“Just give me a honeymoon that doesn’t involve watching you blast an entire Reaper with nothing but a laser and we’ll be good.”

“You got it, Major.”

  
  


***

  
  


The  _ Normandy  _ is a welcome sight. He’d been born on Mindoir and had served on the ground for much of his career, but John Shepard was made to command a ship. That much had become clear while he’d been working with Cerberus.  _ With _ , not for. The faith in the eyes of his crew that had grown with every passing day solidified his desire.

He hangs back and watches Joker and EDI. They’re the same as ever - snarky and sarcastic and somehow in love. The cockpit is almost the same, with the exception of an additional station and a truly impressive array of new controls. It’s a bit more cramped than before, but Shepard is sure that Joker’s biggest complaint is that he and EDI will have to watch what they say around another crewman.

“Shepard! Never thought I’d see your pretty face around here again,” Joker says. “I guess I’m glad. Just for the love of god, stop showing me things I don’t want to see.”

Shepard raises his eyebrows at EDI. “Ignore him. He has always been jealous.”

Joker splutters an unintelligible complaint.

“Well, he’s the best damn pilot the Alliance has ever seen. Did you know Kaidan is jealous of him? He’s certainly not my best pilot.”

“He’s your best a lot of things I wish I’d never known,” Joker mutters.

Shepard pats his shoulder. Not too hard; Joker is made of glass, after all. “It’s good to be back.”

The running lights and the workstations are all just as he remembers them. The galaxy map has been updated, though - some of the star systems he remembers are still in repair, and others may never work again, but several relays have been added to their knowledge base, an effect of ships going through the relays at the moment of their destruction.

The crew isn’t the same, with the exception of Engineer Adams, the galaxy’s only expert on the  _ Normandy _ ’s state-of-the-art drive core, and Samantha Traynor, who squeezes him in a hug so hard he nearly bursts. Shepard will miss his old friends, though they will likely travel with him from time to time, but he’s got his most precious treasure, and that’s what matters.

“Is it weird that this cabin feels more like home than my own home?” Kaidan asks when he finally makes his way there. “These damn fish you spent money on - I swear we half-thought you were indoctrinated when you bought fish in the middle of a war. I’ve missed the glow.” He hands Shepard a glass of whiskey on the rocks, to which Shepard makes a face.

“First of all, indoctrination doesn’t work that way. Second of all - sit your ass on the couch and stop feeling up my tank; you’ll get handprints on it before we even take off - it’s the small things that get you through the day when things are bad. And finally, stop giving me whiskey. You know I don’t like it.”

Kaidan swats his arm as he sits next to Shepard on the couch. “Buy your own damn alcohol then.”

“Smartass,” Shepard mutters, taking a drink.

The intercom comes to life, Joker’s voice a familiar, welcome sound. “This is your captain speaking, ladies and gentlemen. We will be airborne in T minus twenty minutes. If you’re not ready, Shepard will personally find you and kick your ass. He’s been in bed a lot this last year and a half - and boy do I wish I hadn’t said it that way - so he’s itching to get out here. Oh, and treat him nice. He really isn’t as bad as people say, even if he does smell funny. Joker out.”

Shepard gives Kaidan a baffled look. “I smell funny?”

Kaidan shrugs. “That’s news to me.”

“Like whiskey,” Joker says over the intercom; he must have turned on the two-way to the cabin. “Stop drinking on the job.”

“I have twenty minutes left,” Shepard says primly. “And you can’t tell me what to do anyway.”

“Good thing I’m flyin’ the ship,” he mutters before going silent.

Shepard turns to Kaidan, who takes his free hand. “Are you ready for this, Commander?”

Shepard smiles, happier than he’s been since... forever. He finally has life not on a deadline, and the man of his dreams beside him.

“The future is ours now. Let’s do this.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who rode this train with me, especially those of you who have been there from the beginning. I'm glad I can finally say this chapter of my life is over. I may write a few more Mass Effect things, but this series that was begun 70 works ago is finished. I will always love this version of Shepard the most, because he is happy and he deserves every ounce of that happiness. 
> 
> O7


End file.
